


The Quality of Each Man's Work

by farad



Series: The Phoenix Series [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: 3K Round-up Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 03:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post "The New Law" and for the Daybook  prompt "Any, God knew he wouldn't be Buck for all the money in the world" - though it's actually paraphrased later in the story. Thanks mucho to the awesome Deannie for the beta - all mistakes my own.</p><p>OH - and warning: the C/E is implied, sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quality of Each Man's Work

“ . . .each man's work will become evident; for the day will show it because it is to be revealed with fire, and the fire itself will test the quality of each man's work.” - _The Bible:_ _1 Corinthians, 3:13_

 

 

“It's gonna take a while to rebuild,” Nathan said with a sigh, looking around the room.

 

As the front windows were gone – and the dead bodies – the smell of the place was better, but there were still scorch marks from the blast that the cannon ball had caused when it hit the liquor bottles. The back wall of the bar was still in place, but most of the merchandise was gone – and the bar itself was going to need some extensive work. Glass still glittered in places, catching the last of the day's sunlight, and giving the room a sparkle that made Josiah think of one of those fine places in New Orleans or San Francisco.

 

Old Man Stoddard, who owned the place, was in the backroom, going through his inventory to try to find something for them to drink. Josiah was glad that the man was the forgiving sort, raised a good Catholic. He knew that in one sense, he was better off than most; while the front of his business needed some rebuilding and that his stock needed replenishing, of all the businesses in town, he had the best profit margin for repair. And he had the largest number of people who would work for free – or for a free drink.

 

But Josiah was pretty sure he'd heard the man murmuring that he was too old for this and that he needed to sell the place and get to a more 'civilized' place.

 

Of course, that might have been a prayer; Josiah wasn't sure if the reference to 'God' he had heard was actually a curse or an invocation.

 

“It is indeed, brother,” Josiah agreed when he felt Nathan's gaze upon him. “But the good Lord has seen fit to give us that opportunity.”

 

Nathan frowned, shaking his head. “Don't know about you,” he said as he stepped over to join Josiah at the bar, looking down with a grimace at a particularly big hole in it, “but I have to say, I'm not sure that I think it's an opportunity. Seems to me that no one in this town was thinking that they'd miss us – hell, I got more people thanking me in the day we were at the village than I do in a week here.”

 

Josiah didn't say anything, not sure that he could actually disagree with his friend. When the new marshal had stepped off that stage behind the Judge, issuing his edicts and telling everyone how things were going to done, Josiah had had a vision of his father, one so strong that it had almost made him sick. One that had made him more than ready to leave when Nathan had come to him grim-faced, holding his sign before him like shield.

 

At that point, Vin had taken on the quest to find the lost cannon, and Chris had vanished, making off to his homestead to put things to right and settle his few horses before he, too, left the next morning.

 

No one in the town had said anything to them except Mary and Gloria, and that had been telling enough.

 

But then Mary had come looking for Chris, and Chris had gone looking for Vin, and then everything else had happened, right up to the people from the town making camp with them, angry, and willing to put themselves on the line to get their town back – well, the song had been different then, as had the attitude.

 

Which was why he wasn't above donating his time and abilities to help as much as possible in the rebuilding.

 

“Going to take some time, true,” Josiah agreed, reaching out to touch Nathan on the shoulder. “But all good things do. I think they are more willing to trust us now. You've already had – what, five patients since we got back to town? You must be tired, my friend. Sit down.”

 

Nathan shook his head, but it wasn't in refusal so much as annoyance.

 

There were voices at the swinging door to the saloon, and Josiah looked over his shoulder to see Buck and JD coming through the doors.

 

“I saved you!” JD was saying. He was in front of Buck but turned around to make his point. He was moving fast, his short legs doing twice the work of Buck's far longer ones, and he was more concerned about the point he was making than where he was going.

 

Which was why he tripped over a board on the floor, his momentum carrying him onward even as his arms pinwheeled, trying to keep him upright.

 

Buck was quick, reaching out one long arm to catch JD's shoulder and keeping him from falling.

 

“And now I saved you!” Buck said, laughing. “Watch your feet there, boy!”

 

JD had learned fast, and now he came back with a comment that was worthy of Buck himself. “Easier to save me tripping on my own feet than you tripping on your - “

 

“Hold on, now!” Buck cut him off, and he was grinning.

 

But Josiah noticed that it didn't seem to be as wide or as bright as usual for Buck. It hardly seemed to reach his eyes, which was not usual at all.

 

Nathan seemed to notice it too, for he frowned and looked at Josiah, his face holding a question. Josiah shrugged, not certain at all as to what might be wrong. But then, it had been a fierce battle and before that, they had all been separated for a couple of days. Buck had been here, and according to JD, he'd spent that time in the jail for violating the new laws of the new marshal.

 

Those laws had failed, as all of them had expected; the speed with which they had failed, though, had been the real surprise.

 

“They did not take everything,” Old Man Stoddard announced, coming through the doorway from the back with a small barrel on one shoulder and several bottles in the others. “I suspect that they did not see these, as they were hidden in the cupboard beneath the stairwell.”

 

He set the bottles on the bar and, still holding the cask on one broad shoulder, reached beneath the bar to draw out glasses. He put out seven, though there were still only the four of them present. “You might want to wipe those out,” he said as he turned to settle the cask into the one remaining cradle on the broad cabinet that ran along the back wall of the bar. “A lot of broken glass still to be cleared up.”

 

Josiah reached for two of the glasses and wiped them out with the hem of his coat, ignoring the way Nathan rolled his eyes. Buck had also reached for one, and while he held it upside down, shaking it a few times, he didn't bother to wipe it out. He poured a healthy dose of what appeared to be whiskey into the glass, swirled it around a few times, then drank it down so quickly that if it did have any glass particles in it, he wasn't going to know it for a time.

 

Before he had finished swallowing the first shot, he was pouring another – in fact, Josiah was pretty sure that the bottle hadn't left his hand.

 

Buck took a breath before lifting his shot to his mouth, and this time, he didn't drink the whole thing, just half of it. He let it sit in his mouth for a time, long enough for Josiah to gesture toward the bottle and ask, “You mind sharing?”

 

Buck grinned, a quick movement that was more in his mustache than in his lips, and held out the bottle. Josiah took it, pouring for himself and Nathan. The doors to the saloon, strangely still intact, swung back and forth and a familiar tread of boots strolled across the floor. Josiah reached for another glass, which Nathan had already wiped out with a bar towel, and poured a third measure of whiskey, holding it out to Vin as he came close.

 

“Hell of a day,” the younger man said by way of a greeting. “Glad to see Mr. Stoddard here still has some of his wares.”

 

“They did leave a few,” the old man said as he tapped the keg. “And even if they hadn't, I had a few squirreled away, to be on the safe side. Figured you boys might have stayed close. Hoped so, anyway. That man – that man did not know what he was getting into, that's for sure and certain.”

 

Josiah nodded his head, thinking to agree and perhaps even say a few more things, but Vin, who was standing close to him, shifted, just enough for his elbow to bump up against Josiah's arm.

 

It was a little thing, something that under other circumstances or from another man, Josiah would hardly have noticed. But it was Vin, who tended to like a lot of space, and who hardly ever bumped up against someone accidentally.

 

Josiah looked at him, finding those strikingly blue eyes staring at him. Vin tilted his head just a little, and Josiah glanced in the direction he indicated. Buck was staring out the into the falling night, through the space where the window should be. His expression was one of such sadness that Josiah felt a stirring of grief himself.

 

Unfortunately, JD wasn't as sensitive to whatever was happening with Buck, and he charged right into the silence and the opening left by the barkeep. “That man had his head up his ass,” JD said, saying what he hadn't been able to say the day the Judge had introduced them to Marshal Bryce. “He might have been able to pull that stuff back East, but this ain't back East. He came in here thinking he could do what he wanted – well, I guess he found out things are different this far west!”

 

Buck took a few steps away, downing the shot he still held in his hand.

 

“JD,” Mr. Stoddard said, drawing their attention away from Buck, “would you like a beer? I have it tapped now – on the house.”

 

JD's eyes widened and he grinned. “Why thanks, that'd be great!”

 

Stoddard had already poured it, and he set the frothy mug on the bar; foam made up over half the contents, as it always did on the first few pours from a new tap, but JD didn't mind – he loved getting the first pour from a new cask.

 

He lifted the mug and raised it in a toast. “Here's to getting our town back – and our guns!” he said.

 

Josiah hesitated, but Vin was raising his glass, and so was Nathan. As they touched JD's mug, the grin on JD's face faded. “Where's Buck?” he asked, looking around. It was then that Josiah noticed the swinging doors moving gently, and the empty glass sitting on one of the few remaining tables.

 

“Reckon he's gone to check on Chris,” Vin said, moving over to the same table on which Buck's glass sat. He walked around it toward the wall, pulling a chair from the shadows and setting it near the table. He put his glass down and pulled a few more chairs close, as much as invitation as they were like to get.

 

Josiah moved to join him, settling into a chair with the ease of long practice – and realizing that his old bones were aching and his old body was damnably tired. Maybe that was the message the Lord was sending him – to settle down and leave the fighting to the young men.

 

As if to corroborate his thinking, Old Man Stoddard walked over to join them, carrying the last two glasses and the bottle of whiskey. “If I were younger, I'd have stayed – or joined you in the fight. But I can't sit a horse anymore – hell, walking into town in that uniform almost did me in. But what a feeling. You boys did bring this town together, that's for sure and certain. Made us think about what's important.”

 

JD grinned, looking around the room. “You mean, having a window in your place and tables and chairs for your customers?”

 

Stoddard walked around and dropped a hand on JD's shoulder. “I mean having people who are willing to fight and die for you, son. You won't find that back East, and I warrant that that's what The New Law Man didn't take into account.” He looked at each of them, nodding his head. “You be sure that Mr. Larabee and Mr. Standish get some of the whiskey too – there's another bottle on the bar, there. I'm going to head upstairs to my room and try to get it right enough for some shut eye, so I can start fresh in the morning. Would appreciate it if you boys didn't get too rowdy down here.”

 

Josiah nodded as he thanked the man, and the others did too.

 

After he wandered off, the sound of his steps echoing off the hardwood of the walls and floor, JD said, “Still don't know where Buck went. Chris is over at the telegraph office, wiring the Judge, then him and Ezra were going to ride out and around the town, to make sure everyone was all right. They're staying at his place tonight – wish I could be there for that. Hell, you know Ezra's gonna bitch up a storm, not having his own bed and all.”

 

Josiah was sipping from his whiskey though he couldn't stop the snort of amusement. Fortunately, he didn't get too much in his nose and only had to cough a few times. Nathan was kind enough to slap him on the back, and Josiah was wise enough not to look at Vin who he knew was trying not to grin. The younger man pushed his chair back onto its back legs, so that he was leaning against the back wall and the brim of his hat was casting a shadow over his face. Josiah had figured out, finally, that Vin did it intentionally, so he could hide his face from the world – and grin all he wanted without anyone else being the wiser.

 

“You all right there?” Nathan asked. “I can get you some water.”

 

“No, no,” Josiah said, shaking his head. “I'm good now.”

 

JD was shaking his head as well, but Josiah knew his thoughts were still on Buck. Once he got something in his mind, he couldn't let it go until he had an answer. Which was why it wasn't a bit of a surprise when JD downed the rest of his beer – what little there was – and slammed the mug on the table. “I'm gonna go find him. Hell – reckon I better before he gets himself into more trouble! Be our luck that Chris would take a page from Bryce's book and lock Buck up in jail!”

 

But as JD stood, Vin dropped his chair down onto all four of its legs and pushed his hat back, so that he could look JD squarely in the eyes. “Leave him be, JD. Don't reckon any of us want to be Buck Wilmington right now.”

 

JD stared down at Vin, his face showing confusion. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “What's wrong with Buck?”

 

Vin looked up at JD and though his expression didn't change, Josiah saw the way his head tilted a little to one side, a sign of his own confusion. “He spent a pretty good while in that jail cell with the Marshal,” Vin said softly. “Reckon that wasn't easy.”

 

JD's face drew more together, his shoulders hunching forward. Josiah felt a little of the mystery himself – but he also had an inkling as to what Vin was getting at. What none of them had considered to this point because none of them had been there.

 

“Buck's wouldn't let Bryce's stupid laws get to him – hell, Buck was one of the first of us to tell Bryce how stupid he was being! Buck could handle listening to all that.”

 

Vin drew a deep breath, and for a second, he looked at Josiah. As their eyes met, Josiah knew it was a lot more than what JD thought, and he closed his eyes, saying a prayer for Bryce.

 

Beside him, Nathan said softly, “JD, maybe you better sit down. I can get you another beer.”

 

JD turned to stare at Nathan, and the confusion on his face vanished as he set his jaw in a sign of the annoyed stubbornness that they all knew well. JD was figuring out that there was more going on here than he knew and there was very little that made JD angrier than thinking that they were treating him like a kid. “I said I was going to find Buck,” he said, each word carefully spoken.

 

Nathan held up a hand, a sign of peace, but it was Vin who spoke again, his tone calm and measured, as it always was. “You were there when we got Buck out of jail – you had the keys, remember?”

 

JD turned back. “Yeah, I remember – I knocked out that guy who had them, tricked him into helping me move the barrel only I hit him really good when he wasn't expecting it - “

 

“And Chris and I got there in time to take care of those other two guys,” Vin said, his tone still calm. “You got the keys and we all went in together. You remember what we found?”

 

JD blinked, frowning. “Yeah, we found Buck. Got him out of there.”

 

Vin took a breath, and Josiah knew he was thinking his way through this – though Josiah knew now at least part of what was coming. “We did,” Vin agreed. “But it was only him. You recall why?”

 

JD stared. “He was the only one there – well, he was the only one alive.”

 

Vin nodded. “He was. The Marshal was dead. Did you look at him, JD?”

 

JD swallowed and though it was too dark to actually tell, Josiah thought he might have gone a little pale. “He was dead,” JD said, as if that were the answer.

 

“He was gut shot,” Vin said, and though his voice was still calm, the words had the effect of a gunshot – at least to Josiah and Nathan.

 

Josiah closed his eyes, the prayer coming once more to his lips while beside him, Nathan made a sound, like a low moan.

 

JD turned to look at them, and the stubbornness seeped away. He looked as if he might say something, but he didn't seem to know what to say.

 

So Vin, his voice soft and clear, said, “Takes a long time to die from one of those. Buck was in there that whole time with him, in that other cell. Not able to help. Having to watch as the man suffered.”

 

JD took a breath then suddenly, he dropped back into his chair. “Buck . . .he . . .”

 

“Yeah,” Vin said, reaching for the bottle of whiskey. He filled his glass then reached over and caught JD's mug by the handle, drawing it to him and pouring a measure of whiskey into it. He then put the mug in front of JD and put the bottle in front of Josiah as he went on, “He sat with a man who was in pain and dying, a man who none of us agreed with but who came to try to do something good for this town. We may not have liked his methods, but he wasn't no different from the rest of us in what he wanted to do.”

 

JD swallowed, looked away from Vin and to Josiah, then to Nathan. He picked up the mug, looking at the whiskey in it, then he took a sip. Not a drink, not like the rest of them, but it was more than a taste. After he swallowed, he started, “I didn't – I mean, I -”

 

“You did good, working to get Buck out of there, to defend the town,” Vin went on. “But give Buck some time. That's a hard thing to bear.”

 

JD nodded, putting down his mug then picking it back up. This time, he took a longer drink.

 

Josiah drank too, then he refilled his glass and passed the bottle onto Nathan, who wasn't at all reluctant to drink another round.

 

“So – where do you think he is?” JD asked, his voice softer now.

 

“Don't know,” Vin said. “If it were me, I'd probably be over to the undertakers, making sure that the Marshal didn't get confused with those bastards what tried to destroy the town. Seems he deserves a lot more than that.”

 

JD nodded, then, once more, he stood. “Think I'll go over and make sure that everything's all right. There's a lot of things going on at the mortuary – maybe I better go and make sure, in case Buck – well . . .”

 

It was a brave thing to do, especially for JD. Josiah nodded at him, and said, “Thanks, JD. We'd appreciate that, and Buck will, too.”

 

JD nodded and stood, walking past Vin and toward the door with a determination they had all come to appreciate. As the doors swung behind him, Nathan asked, “How bad was it?”

 

Vin shrugged. “I would not have wanted to be there,” he said simply.

 

Nathan frowned, but he didn't ask more. Instead he finished off his glass then stood. “Things in the clinic aren't too bad, though it's gonna take some work before I find my bed. Reckon I'm off. Try not to need me tonight.”

 

Josiah grinned up at his oldest friend. “We'll try our best,” he said. “But only for you, so you can get your rest.”

 

Nathan grinned back and slapped Josiah on the shoulder as he passed.

 

With just the two of them, the room was quiet, only the sounds of the doors swinging on their hinges and the noises from outside, periodic voices, the shuffle of things being moved and people trying to settle back in. The evening grew darker, the sun gone now and night coming in fast.

 

Vin had refilled their glasses at least once, maybe twice but Josiah wasn't sure. He was sure, though, that he had a question to ask, and when it was too dark to see anything but the glint in Vin's eyes and the shine of his teeth, he asked quietly, “When did you go through that?”

 

The silence went on for so long that Josiah began to doubt that he had actually asked. It wasn't helping that he never seemed to empty his glass – yet he couldn't see well enough to see the bottle on the table, much less to refill it.

 

But just when he thought he was going to have to sleep here in the saloon, sitting in this chair, Vin's voice drifted into his ears, quiet and warm, and close, as if Vin had moved to sit beside him. “Watched my ma die. Wasn't a gut shot, but it was a lot like it. Watched a good friend die that way in the War. Watched a few bounties die that way, too, men who didn't deserve pity – but it's hard not to pity a man suffering that way. Can't figure what it'd be like if it were someone who had his head in the right place, even if I didn't like his idea on how to do it.”

 

Josiah drew a breath, the whiskey warm in his belly and in his head. “Saw too many myself. Can't argue with you. Though I hope that JD don't ever have to go through it.”

 

“Me, too,” Vin said. “Reckon you need to tell me your stories,” he added.

 

Josiah chuckled. “You asking?” he said.

 

“Yep,” Vin answered. “Though I think it's getting on late enough to find a soft bed.”

 

Josiah smiled and reached out a hand to his right, not surprised when it landed on a the warm flesh of a strong arm. “You asking for an invite?” he said softly.

 

Vin made a noise like a snort, though it was soft. “Reckon it's better than my wagon,” he answered. “I'll bring some whiskey – that sweeten the deal?”

 

Josiah pushed himself to his feet, taking a few seconds to get his balance, but not worried about falling. Vin's hand was solid under his elbow, steadying and secure.

 

Familiar.

 

“You were going to come to the village, weren't you?” Josiah asked, the words out of his mouth before he had the thought clearly fixed in his head. It was something that had been there for a few days, though, dark and cold and slithering out when he least wanted it to.

 

Vin's fingers tightened on his arm, the pressure almost painful. “Told you I would,” he said, his words blowing warm over Josiah's ear. “If Chris hadn't shown up, I'd have been there by nightfall.” He snorted, another sign of amusement. “Instead, I was there in the early afternoon. You ain't complaining, are you?”

 

Josiah turned just a little, enough to brush his nose against Vin's cheek. “I'd never complain about you being with me,” he whispered. “Let's go tell some stories.”

 

As they made their way out onto the boardwalk, into the light of a slowly rising moon, Josiah saw Buck and JD sitting on the boardwalk in front of the undertaker's.

 

“Holding vigil,” Vin murmured, drawing Josiah back closer to the wall. “Buck's a good man, and he's gonna make JD one, too.”

 

Josiah nodded. “Seems like we all are, one way or another. Though I'd really prefer it could be the other way sometimes. Would make things easier.”

 

“I think that sometimes,” Vin said as they stepped off the boardwalk and into the street. “But I also think that it's good to know, good to understand the way of things, even when doing the right thing is hardest.”

 

Josiah couldn't argue that, and as they made their way to the church and up the stairs into it, Josiah decided it wasn't something he wanted to debate. Instead, as he closed the church doors behind them, he said, “I'm happy to be back. Happy that the town wants us back. I'd rather talk about that.”

 

“Or not talk at all?” Vin countered, a lucifer flaring in his fingers as he made his way to the alter. He used it to light some candles, and in the glow, Josiah realized that the damage here wasn't as bad as he had thought in the afternoon.

 

It was still destruction, pews missing, scorch marks up the walls, the smell of charring still strong in the air.

 

But the candles were still there, and so was the Bible.

 

And so was Vin.

 

Vin picked up a candle and turned to Josiah. With a nod, he led the way to the back of the church.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
